Posts Tagged With: book

“Inked”

When I think too much and say too little,
and end up feeling strange and mental,
I pull a book that smells of dust,
and bury deep in those inked rusts,
and find my thoughts are not alone —
In fact they’re made to feel welcomed,
as if the writer knew my dreams,
and wrote of realms and magic things,
and all those shady hidden thoughts
have surfaced up like bubble pops, ah! —
How fun and lovely is a friend
That speaks to you with ink and pen.
Categories: Creative Writing, poems, poetry, prose | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A Favorite Book

I ripped a favorite book in two.

It felt like murder. Laughs gagged midway,
severed, a child’s stifled scream.
One hit, swung, breaked just before
swirls and stars.
A man’s last breath, stopped! Perpetual
life. Death. On hold.
A kiss,
paused, lipsĀ one slip away from
sweetness.
An itch.
An itch.
An itch. No scratch.
A warm swig of coffee,
swallowed, sip wedged
mid-throat.
A heartbeat, bookmarked.
A long sigh,
unending.
The tick. The to-

We love, we read books
We dream, we read books
You are a book
I loved
And would have
Loved more

But someone had ripped
in half.

Categories: Creative Writing, love, poems, poetry | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Create a free website or blog at WordPress.com.